


avalanche

by civillove



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:01:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23583514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/civillove/pseuds/civillove
Summary: a case of the week that involves a body found at Bow Bridge, Dani getting a phone number and Malcolm not knowing how to say it bothers him.
Relationships: Malcolm Bright/Dani Powell
Comments: 24
Kudos: 122





	avalanche

**Author's Note:**

> specifically for the anon that said they missed my brightwell, thank you! hope you enjoy :3

There’s something about Central Park that Dani loves.

She knows that it’s inherently a touristy spot and the crowds tend to aggravate her nerves, a sense of claustrophobia popping along her bones when she’s in the midst of it. But other times? In off seasons it’s just New Yorkers with their daily work out routines, walking their dogs, having picnics, strolling through with friends and enjoying the scenery the city can offer.

Dani should make more time for parks; it’s like every time she gets a moment to herself she’s digging into cold cases because why not or spending too many minutes in her apartment fixing her feng shui because she’s antsy like that.

But the feeling she gets wandering through nature, tall trees waving overhead, her boots crunching through dirt and dried leaves that have fallen, breathing in breeze that tell her they’re on the cusp of spring—there’s nothing quite like that. Sometimes she forgets that she doesn’t always need to be running, doesn’t always need to feel like she’s doing something productive or busy. Sometimes she can just _be,_ to unwind and saunter through a park to disconnect—it doesn’t make her any less of a hard worker.

She sighs and turns a corner in the park, heading towards Bow Bridge and she chews on the bottom of her lower lip; her idea somehow feels unjustified. Or maybe it’d be better for her to come to this realization when she’s not walking towards a crime scene.

They’re dragging the water underneath Bow Bridge for a body, reeling it up carefully on a crane. Edrisa is practically bouncing on the balls of her feet as she leans over the edge of the bridge to watch, making sure everything is in order and they’re not jostling the corpse too much. Of _course_ there’s a crowd of people at both ends of the bridge, watching like they’ve sold some sort of ticket—they really have nothing better to do?

She spots Malcolm discussing something with Gil as he motions towards the water; neither of them walking up onto the bridge just yet. Good, she doesn’t feel so late. She had originally scheduled today as a day off because she has PTO to take and Gil keeps insisting she relax and recharge or one of these days she’s gonna crack. So she humors him every so often and enjoys time away, except that this victim needs all of their collective attention so Dani didn’t mind when he called her this morning.

She was just in the middle of her kitchen being a disaster because of French toast so it took her a minute to get things under control before she was able to leave her apartment. She scrunches her nose as she thinks about the sink full of dishes she left behind in a hurry to get going…so she has that to look forward to.

A few police officers have pulled witnesses under the yellow tape to take statements and she gets ready to flash her badge so that they’ll let her through when a man in the crowd turns suddenly and—spills coffee all over her.

She gasps and jumps back, trying to avoid the complete mess down the front of her shirt but it does nothing to help. Dani blinks and finds herself frozen in place a moment; it’s not that the coffee is scalding hot or anything but the angle got her pretty good. Her leather jacket caught some of it and she peels it off to shake out, noticing the sizable stain on her olive-green t-shirt.

Perfect. She can’t wait to smell like stale coffee for the rest of the day.

“I’m so sorry,” This guy, once she gets a good look at him, has running gear on. He’s tall, African American and his eyes are swimming with sympathy as he tries to figure out whether to help or keep his hands to himself. “I didn’t see you.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that.” Dani mumbles but straightens her back. “It’s alright, don’t worry about it.”

He has a small backpack on and whirls it around to the front of him, digging in it for napkins that have a bagel company printed on the front. “Here.”

She takes them and pads off, cleaning her leather jacket first. It looks okay, for the most part, she has a deep cleaner at home that should take care of any stains.

“Despite the coffee attack, you still look good. I mean you; you looked great before too.” He shakes his head, biting the inside of his cheek. “I’m making this worse.”

She rests her jacket over her arm and looks up at him, it takes her a moment but a soft laugh slips out of her lips at his awkwardness. He’s handsome, if she allows herself to really _look;_ long lines and a muscular tone that fits into his work-out clothes a little too perfectly.

“No, you’re fine, unless you have another coffee hidden underneath your shirt to toss on me.” She smiles a little and glances towards the crime scene, Malcolm spotting her and beginning to walk closer, waiting at the yellow tape. “I gotta go. Thanks for the drink.” She states wryly before she turns.

He doesn’t quite step in her space but he does reach out to touch her, Dani pausing before he can.

“What if I make it up to you by…buying you one that’s in an actual cup.”

She hesitates for a second, her hands still trying to wring out the bottom of her shirt. It’s not that she doesn’t get asked out, she _does,_ but the fact that it’s in front of a crime scene and she’s covered in coffee is throwing her off. She opens her mouth to tell him no, she’s not interested and thanks anyways but there’s something about his smile that stops her.

It’s soft, just at the corners of his mouth, boyish charm that reminds her of someone else.

“Sure.” She says softly before she can really stop herself. “I mean, maybe, yeah. That…that would be fine.” Dani clears her throat and begins to walk again, digging her business card out of her back pocket to hand him. “My cell is in the corner.”

The guy takes it, smile widening and he nods, snapping a picture of the front with his cell phone. He then digs in his bag for a pen and scribbles what she can assume is his name and number on the back of her card before handing it back to her. Their fingers brush as she takes it and she offers a small smile in return before turning to head under the yellow tape that Malcom is holding up for her.

She can feel him watching her, his eyes trying to access multiple things at once. He clears his throat, one of his hands dragging down the lapel of his suit jacket,

“I was going to ask if you wanted some coffee but…”

Dani groans and Malcolm has the audacity to smirk. “How about you don’t say anything unless it has to do with the profile.”

He smiles, shaking his head as he unbuttons his suit jacket to shrug off. He holds it in front of her, a peace offering that she snatches without a word to slip it over her shoulders. She pulls her hair up and over the collar, sighing gently as his scent envelops her—expensive cologne, cedar, laundry detergent and skin.

Malcolm sticks his hands in his pockets as they begin to walk up Bow Bridge, taking their time because the body of the victim isn’t quite lifted out yet, Edrisa yelling directions while Gil tries to get her to calm down. The profiler looks back over their shoulders a moment and she can tell he wants to ask, that he wants to dig under her skin and pose her with questions on the tip of his tongue.

It’s taking him a lot longer than she thought to try and crowbar into her personal life; she’s warned him that he really needs to start biting his cheek when he wants to do that. Friends aren’t supposed to analyze one another—even though she knows there’s a part of him that can’t help it. He doesn’t understand the boundary, the line blurring between exposing the background of a killer versus someone he’s close with.

Eventually he gets to the point where he pops like a cap off a shaken bottle of soda, “Was that guy in the crowd, the coffee spiller…was he hitting on you?”

Dani lets out a slow breath and misinterprets his sense of surprise, her skin prickling a little because, “Yeah, this may come as a shock but that happens to me occasionally.”

Bright blinks, “That’s…not what I meant.”

She pulls the lapels of his jacket tighter, forcing the fabric around her frame a little better as a breeze picks up in the park. She avoids his gaze and the insistent _pressing_ that sometimes comes from being around him. He thinks this is what makes a good connection, at how you build a relationship with other people…but the more he prods, the more she wants to push him away.

“Even if I knew what you meant, it’s not your business.” She says gently, hoping he gets the point.

They get to the center of the bridge, JT nodding his head to her in a ‘hello’. Dani tilts her gaze around a few men working a crane, the body of the victim beginning to come into view. A shiver travels down her spine that has nothing to do with the wind, porous black and blue splotched skin of a woman settling into her memory like the after-flash of a camera going off.

“I just didn’t think you’d…entertain that sort of thing on a case.” Bright says it so nonchalantly, like he’s talking about the weather and she _knows_ it’s to bait her, that he’s half teasing.

He’s the only person she knows who’s capable of carrying on a conversation like they’re out for a Sunday stroll when there’s a victim spread out in front of them.

“Did you know that Bow Bridge was constructed by two British architects?” Edrisa says suddenly, looking around at the structure they’re on before taking a deep, satisfied breath.

Dani shakes her head softly, running a hand over her forehead; _or well, maybe Bright isn’t the only one._

“Is that helpful to our case?” Gil asks, more amusement in his voice than anything else. Malcolm moves towards the body, about to jump in with some sort of fact that supports Edrisa’s train of thought but when the mortician shakes her head to his question, Gil points to Bright, “Then keep it to yourself.”

Bright sighs softly and pretends to zip his mouth shut but Dani knows that won’t happen for long, he’s hovering over the body and getting a good look at what they’re working with as Edrisa begins to catalogue wounds. She can feel JT round Gil and stand next to her, glancing at the body but also to the coffee stain that’s decorating the front of her shirt.

“Try something new with your coffee today?”

“Oh fuck off,” Dani says but there’s a soft smile to her voice, gently bumping her shoulder with her partner’s. “I own up to some clumsiness but this wasn’t my bad.”

“Some jogger bumped into her.” Malcolm says, almost as an afterthought because he’s paying attention to too many things at once.

JT raises an eyebrow, “Sounds like he cares about it more than you do.”

“Please don’t encourage him.” Dani scolds under her breath, crossing her arms over her chest. She bites down on saying something about how Bright loves to give his opinion where it’s unwarranted. “Edrisa, do we know time of death?”

“It’s always a little hard when the body is in water for a time but I’m estimating three days ago.”

Dani can’t help but glance at Malcolm as he lingers, his eyes ticking over different parts of the body, the context speaking to him in ways she wishes she could understand, to pick up on what he sees. Sometimes she didn’t always take profiling seriously, it’s all about the ability to read someone else—the way the eyes dilate, the softest twitch of the lips, personality and behavior. But Malcolm is able to do it with places, with people who can’t speak for themselves—who need their stories told and acknowledged.

It’s definitely something to be admired.

“Well this is one of the most public parks in New York, I doubt someone didn’t notice a body bag being carted around to put her in the water.”

Malcolm hums softly, “You’d be surprised,” He looks up at JT for a moment, his hand rubbing the lower half of his face in thought, “Sometimes when things are so busy, no one notices anything. This park has everything from boat rides, horse drawn carriages, theater performances and that doesn’t even cover all the service men and women. Garbage collection, people who mow the lawn, upkeep the flowers and bushes…”

“So maybe that’s a good place to start,” Dani offers, “With people who had shifts within the last three days.”

Gil nods, leaning over the corpse a little more. “Those holes in her body, those made by being in the water?”

Bright grimaces but doesn’t say anything for a moment; unfortunately that tells them more than whatever is going to come out of his mouth. Dani swallows, something slow and sick sliding down her throat and settling in her stomach. Her eyes flicker between the holes in the woman’s flesh; there has to be more than twenty scattered on her body.

“No,” Malcolm says at the same moment Edrisa grabs a tool from her bag, it looks like a tiny metal spatula. She dips it into the hole at the shoulder and makes the same noise that Bright did a few moments before; both of them are on the same track.

She looks up at him and he holds her gaze, nodding his head as if they’re having a silent conversation. Sometimes Dani envies that, their ability to know so much just by _looking,_ to be on the same page in the same novel. Sometimes she feels like she’s not even reading in the right language.

“Those holes are too perfectly circular to be made by debris in the water,” Malcolm crosses his arms over his chest. “Whoever did this is smart, my guess is they were done by a drill?”

Edrisa nods in confirmation, “Yeah, I would agree.”

“A drill could mean two things.”

“Does it have to?” JT sighs, looking like he’s ready to leave the conversation and the crime scene altogether.

There’s the smallest hint of smiles pulling at the corners of Malcolm’s lips. He rocks back on his heels a moment before he continues, “First, it could be that our killer enjoyed torturing this woman. But based on the decomposition and the bruising around each of the holes,” He crouches to get a closer look and Dani notices the pattern of consistent bruising, “This was done to her when she was already dead.”

“And second?” She asks, voice smaller than she wants it to be. She clears her throat.

He looks up at her, pausing as he considers his thought process, “Most likely, the holes would have made it easier for the body to sink.”

Gil lets out a long sigh, “Let’s get her back to the precinct. Sooner we figure out who she is, the quicker you can begin building your profile.”

Malcolm bites down on his lower lip as he stands, like he’s debating whether he wants to share what he has so far. Gil squeezes his arm as he passes him, making that decision for him—he’s always consistent about limiting the circus around them, too many eyes on a victim who deserves her privacy as much as the next person. He wants to wrap up and Bright takes a step back, filing away comments for later when they learn who the woman is.

Dani runs a hand through her hair, wondering if she has enough time to run home and change before heading to the precinct and figures she mise well try it. Edrisa still has to help her team carefully pack up the victim and run through her own agenda when she makes it back to the morgue.

Bright settles next to her, watching Edrisa work for a moment before his attention falls back on Dani, eyes trailing over the suit jacket she still has on. She feels heat build underneath the collar and begins to shrug it off her shoulders to give it back to him.

He gently waves a hand at her, “You can keep it.”

“I’m not keeping a two hundred-dollar suit jacket.” She teases, carefully taking it off to hand over. It probably smells like coffee mixed with her perfume; she wonders if he’ll run it through dry-cleaning.

“I didn’t say it was two hundred.” He raises an eyebrow which just tells her it’s _more_ expensive than she originally thought and yeah, it’s definitely time to head back home and clean herself up. She rolls her eyes and turns on her heel, moving to walk down Bow Bridge, “Dani.”

Hesitating at the sound of her name, Malcolm has followed her because…he’s holding a business card in her hand and _oh._ Right. Jogger’s name and number. His grip tightens a little on the card when she tries to take it from him, an amused smile that she doesn’t like appearing on his face before he finally lets her have it.

“I really thought you had more concentration during a case than to take someone’s number like that.”

An astounded laugh slips out of her chest because she can’t help it. She knows that he’s joking, trying to make her smile, a friendly tilt to his voice that has her stomach doing a ridiculous somersault. But he once again has that _nerve_ about him like he knows everything just by looking at her—

“For your information, he’s not in our suspect pool. He’s not connected to the case so there’s nothing wrong with him wanting to buy me a coffee.”

Dani understands the moment Bright tricks her into offering up information; he didn’t even need to ask her anything. All he had to do was push her buttons. She almost finds it difficult to be upset with him; he’s infuriatingly good at that.

He purses his lips, sticking his hands in his pockets, “Could be our murderer.”

She smiles sweetly, “Are you seriously the one to judge?”

Malcolm narrows his eyes at her, but that soft amusement is still there, keeping a handsome smile on his face. She turns and walks down the bridge, putting her leather jacket back on even though it’s sticky.

“So did you say yes?” He calls after her and Dani walks backwards for a moment in order to address him.

“You’re about ten seconds away from me pushing you into the lake.”

The threat that leaves her lips just makes him laugh.

\--

When Dani’s satisfied that she no longer smells like coffee that was spilled and not cleaned up for a long period of time, she heads back to the precinct. Unfortunately, her leather jacket needs some time to dry in her bathroom so she’s wearing a thick sweater over top of a t-shirt. It feels a little weird, if she’s being honest, not realizing how that jacket has become a part of her until she switches it out for something else.

She stops at her desk to grab a notepad before she heads into the conference room when Bright appears in the corner of her vision, “I’m sorry, are you detective Powell?” He asks, already poking fun at the fact that she looks different. He really doesn’t miss much.

A long sigh filters out of her nose as she lifts her head to look at him, “You’re funny, I didn’t realize you were funny.” She says, her voice a little deadpan.

He smirks, sitting on the corner of her desk, his hands falling into his lap. “Most of the time I’m definitely not. Is your jacket ruined?”

“No, it’s not too bad. Just too wet to wear.”

“I didn’t even know you owned any sweaters,” His fingers play with the corner of the fabric where her gun is holstered. “It’s a nice look on you.”

“I’m constantly full of surprises,” She smiles and chews on her lower lip, her eyes falling to where his hand is. She can’t help but follow his fingers, long and prominent, and bites her tongue on asking something stupid like if he knows how to play the piano. Because of course, he probably does.

“Did we get an ID on the girl?”

Bright’s hands drop from her sweater before he nods, “Yeah, Gil is setting up in the conference room so we can start developing a profile.”

She finds herself tapping her pen on her notepad, watching the expression on his face, “But you already have something, don’t you?”

There’s the faintest hint of a smile, his chin dipping a little because _yes_ he does. He’s biting the inside of his cheeks because he doesn’t want to overshare, has been scolded one too many times for doing so out of turn but Dani sits on her desk, her knee bumping his—she wants to know.

“Come on, you’re liable to burst into flames if you don’t share.”

He smirks, licking his lips as he lifts his head to look at her. His eyes are _so_ blue to the point where she considers falling in. She’s never met anyone with expressive eyes like his, somehow telling her everything and nothing all at once. They’re clear but there’s depths, like the moment she thinks she knows who he is, he does something to surprise her.

“Are you really going to get coffee with that guy from the park?”

Like right now. He throws her off guard with a question she didn’t expect him to ask, “I don’t know,” She looks down a moment, the business card with that name and phone number seeming to burn a hole in her back pocket, “Would that really be so bad? It’s just a cup of coffee.”

“No of course not, coffee is nice.” There are words in Bright’s mouth that seem to choke him and he opens his mouth to say something but can’t, standing from her desk and clearing his throat. “I was…I was considering HPD. For the profile.”

Dani nearly gets whiplash from him shifting the conversation back to the case and she nods slowly, trying to follow his line of thinking. “Histrionic Personality Disorder, right?”

He hums in agreement, motioning towards the conference room. “We should head in.”

She watches him walk towards the room Gil and JT are in, not waiting for her, some sort of unresolved tension that’s never been there before beginning to build like a mountain between them.

\--

The woman’s name is Shannon Flune and, according to a few interviews with her sister, she’s been missing for about a month. There was this guy, because isn’t there always, that wouldn’t take no for an answer and even though she did everything in her power to protect Shannon, it wasn’t enough. She’s willing to put everything on the fact that he kidnapped her.

Dani reviews urveillance tapes from where Shannon worked at MoMa, saw the street view of her being taken violently into a moving car. It was too quick to get a license plate and whoever grabbed her had covered his face. When her sister went to the police, there was nothing to work from and the case grew cold—until they found her body at Central Park.

She lets out a slow breath, running her hand over the back of her neck as she looks at a photograph of Shannon with her sister. She’s got a vibrant smile, bright blonde hair and a healthy natural pink to her cheeks. She’s beautiful, nothing like what they dredged from underneath Bow Bridge with purpling bruised skin and littered with rudimentary holes. She hopes in solving this, that they’re able to bring Shannon’s sister some well-deserved peace.

Malcolm points to the photo of the man they’re looking for; Adam Rukon, 30s, blonde hair and green eyes. Handsome, for the most part, but even more unnerving—he looks so _normal._ If there’s something about this job that never stops digging under Dani’s skin is that all the killers that they catch seem like everyday people, like she could meet any of them on the street and never think twice. It’s the people that make her a bagel in the morning, or deliver her mail…or spill coffee on her in the park and offer their number.

She shakes the thought out of her head, pinching the bridge of her nose—she can’t allow herself to go there. Not _everyone_ she meets is a cold-blooded killer. But she supposes it’s a good thing that it sometimes keeps her up at night, that it bothers her; the moment she becomes complacent she’s either done a really good job at lying to herself or something’s wrong.

“Rukon fits into an outer circle of HPD, he thought his relationship with Shannon was more developed than it really was and was easily influenced by her saying 'no' to him.” He takes a step back from the white-board, crossing his arms over his chest. “That constant seeking of attention kept pushing him to make advances.”

“And made him snap.” JT offers to which Malcolm nods gently.

“Sure, yeah, you can put it that way.”

Dani worries her lower lip between her teeth, “I thought Borderline Personality Disorders more often showcased uncontrollable anger.”

He looks over his shoulder at her, a flickering gaze that tells her he’s impressed she’s offered a counter profile. “Right but,” He takes the photo down of Shannon’s corpse, setting it on the table in front of her, “The drill holes, those aren’t anger. It’s violence, sure, but the amount of time it would take for him to do that instead of just tying her body down with weights to sink her…there’s an intimacy there.”

Dani swallows and has to look away from the photo as Malcolm’s words register. He looks a little sheepish and gathers the photo back up to put on the white-board, clearing his throat,

“Despite the fact that Rukon wasn’t close with Shannon, he projected that he was. And so, ironically, the care that he took with the body is present in the postmortem.”

“Care?” Her voice is a little shrill, “Bright he power-drilled _holes_ into this poor girl’s body. Can you really stand there and say that?”

He swallows, his head dipping a little as he glances at Gil and JT before taking a step towards her. His voice is soft, as if offering comfort even though he’s delivering facts based off his profile, “Dani, he could have done this to her when she was alive. Autopsy shows that he didn’t. It was to sink her so she’d stay ‘buried’ in a place he wanted.”

“So he could visit her.” Gil says, a thoughtful tone to his voice because that’s how they were going to catch him. “Like paying respects.” Again, the word ‘respect’ feels so wrong to use here.

“We’re just going to wait around for this dude to show up?” JT stands from the table; he sounds skeptical and Dani can’t blame him.

Malcolm shrugs his one shoulder, “We’ve managed to keep a lid on the news coverage, odds are that with his compulsive behavior, it won’t take him very long.”

Dani lets out a slow breath as she rolls the sleeves of her sweater down over her hands; she’s definitely going to need a cup of tea if they’re doing a stake out in Central Park.

\--

She runs her fingers over the lid on her Earl Grey tea, Malcolm taking a sip of his own next to her as they walk through Central Park. Dani adjusts the com in her ear, avoiding a few kids throwing a frisbee to head towards the Bow Bridge.

“How long do you think this is going to take?” She asks; the sun is just beginning to dip behind the tree line. There’s a soft chill to the air that has her tugging on the collar of her sweater to cover the back of her neck.

“Why? You have a date or something?” Then Bright seems to realize what he’s said because he smiles, “Oh, right, I suppose you do.”

“Alright, smartass,” She bumps their shoulders, making him smile. “I was concentrating on the case.”

He hums against the rim of his cup, “So he hasn’t texted you yet?” Malcolm’s this weird mix of nonchalant and curious at the same time, his eyes flickering to hers as they step into the grass.

They find a bench near Bow Bridge, the structure in perfect eyesight and both of them sit. She leans back against the cool wood, a little bit of the temperature sinking into the fabric of her jeans and making her shiver. Bright moves closer out of instinct, the side of his body pressing into hers as they keep their eyes on the surrounding area.

“No,” She replies after a minute, wrapping the palms of her hands around the cup. “But it’s not like I’ve been waiting on him and I’ve been too busy to text first.”

“He have a name or should I just keep referring to him as ‘the jogger who spilled coffee on you’?”

She smirks, chancing a look at him, “His name is Jason. I’m not giving you a last name because I don’t trust that you won’t give it to Ainsley to investigate.”

He purses his lips, mock innocence clouding his tone, “That doesn’t sound like me.”

Dani laughs gently, shaking her head, “Right, not at all.”

A silence settles between them, filled with sounds of the park. The wind blows pleasantly through the trees, a lot of couples, joggers, kids with bikes and dogs passing them as they sit on the bench. A few tourists ask if one of them can take their picture with the bridge in the background and Dani complies, standing to give Malcolm her tea so she can use both of her hands.

When she sits down for the third time, she lets out a slow breath, “I rarely do this.”

Bright looks over at her, his thumb playing with the torn drinking tab on his lid. “What? Sit in the park?”

“Well, that too,” She turns a little to face him, their knees bumping. “But I meant go out on dates.”

He raises an eyebrow, his mouth opening for a moment before a soft sound leaves his lips, “Dani, I think I’m the last person to ask for advice about that sort of thing.”

“But you must have an opinion if you keep bringing it up.” She presses, turning the profile back on him for once.

She thinks she knows what it is, a phrase just below the surface that feels familiar. It’s the same sensation that she got when he almost told her something with his hand on a bomb trigger, that same look on his face when he stumbled over words at the wedding reception they crashed.

 _Something_ that keeps getting stuck under his tongue that he won’t say—the last thing she wants to do is put words in his mouth, she doesn’t want to assume she knows what’s going on here even though it feels so _certain_ in her chest. It’s the same confidence she feels when she comes to work every morning, like she’s exactly where she needs to be at the exact right time.

That mountain between them begins to crack, heavy rock falling, an avalanche likely.

Malcolm looks away from her, his fingers stimming on the sides of his tea. His mouth opens but—then he stands, “Dani.” He takes off towards the bridge and she follows his line of sight, Adam Rukon with the worst fucking timing beginning to cross the Bow Bridge.

JT yells in her ear com that him and Gil have been made on the other side of the park and just when her and Malcolm begin to approach the bridge, Adam looks over at them and notices right away that they’re police ready to take him down. He dodges, knocking into a couple trying to get their picture and starts running.

She sighs and draws her gun—why do they _always_ have to run?

Dani loses Malcolm at some point, bright green and sounds flittering past her as she chases Adam through the park, yelling the same warnings she always gives as a cop. JT says that he’s by the boat renting company and she doubles back around a few trees, pausing to catch her breath and sift through the crowd to try and spot him. Just at the last second, out of the corner of her eye she does and takes off, her body _slamming_ into his so hard that he’s knocked onto the ground.

“Stay down.” She yells, using her weight to counter his as Gil and JT show up with their guns raised in support. “You got me?” She asks over her shoulder and JT nods so she can put her weapon away to take her handcuffs out, “Adam Rukon, you’re under arrest for the murder of Shannon Flune—”

“I loved her,” He spits and Dani moves her knee so she can press his face into the dirt to silence whatever is about to come out of his mouth.

“Murder is a really funny way of showing it.” She snaps and she distantly hears Gil telling her to back off as she continues to push his cheek against the grass, the sounds of Adam struggling underneath her disappearing into the dull roar thundering in her ears.

She feels Malcolm come up behind her and wrap an arm around her waist, yanking her off the suspect so that JT and Gil can get him up off the ground. She slumps back against his chest, his side almost creating a cage where she can’t get to Adam even if she tried.

The man spits in her direction as he’s carted away, Malcolm holding her in place with a soft, “Easy, he’s not worth it,” his breath comfortingly warm against her neck.

He eventually lets her go but keeps a supportive hand on her lower back as they walk out of the park.

\--

Dani leans back in her chair as she finishes reading her report before she signs her name to it. Her phone buzzes in her pocket with a text message that she has yet to read but it’s from Jason and she can guess what it says.

An invitation for coffee, maybe an emoji that would make her roll her eyes and tilt the corner of her lips up at the same time. She lets out a slow breath and taps her fingers on her desk, leftover adrenaline fizzling in her bloodstream from chasing Adam to a tackle in the park.

Her body feels bruised even though she didn’t land too hard on the ground, an ache in her muscles that she can only describe as a weight not being lifted, something left unsaid, a decision that she won’t figure out.

She feels him before Bright approaches her desk, pulling a chair over so he can be next to her. He gently touches her knee as he sits, a soft smile that’s too disarming. “You okay?”

Dani hums a response, moving to click on her laptop and print her report for her own records before sending it Gil’s way. She closes the lid, leaning back in her seat as she turns to look at Bright. “One of these days, Gil is going to send me to anger management classes.”

He laughs gently, shaking his head, “Not before JT, I think.” And she grins at that, “But it’s normal for you to feel upset when we catch these guys. Your empathy is part of what makes you a great cop.”

And it doesn’t quite feel like swallowing glass but there’s an emotion clogging her throat for a moment that she doesn’t want to name. Dani leans forward so her elbows are on her knees, rubbing the back of her neck,

“Yeah,” She clears her throat, “It’s what makes it so hard sometimes too.”

Malcolm nods softly and reaches for her hand and their touch hangs between them, his thumb dragging over her knuckles and circling down her middle finger. She watches, an electric current that she can’t see humming, seeming to connect them.

He looks up at her, a soft smile tugging the corners of his mouth. He squeezes her hand, “Do you want to go across the street to that hole-in-the-wall diner?”

She purses her lips a moment, an air of surprise as she says, “I’m pretty sure you scrunched your nose the last time I said I liked it there.”

“Okay, well, in my defense you said your feet stick to the floor underneath the booths from syrup.”

“It’s part of the charm,” She argues, her thumb moving on its own accord to trace the veins of his wrist. “You wouldn’t even eat if we went.”

“But you would,” Bright counters, words insistent in a way that tells her what he has to say is important. That _she_ is important. Dani swallows and senses shuddering between them, the avalanche of rocks, snow and ice rapidly falling down until there’s nothing left but her and him.

Until they have nothing else to hide behind.

For someone who profiles so easily, he misinterprets her silence, “Unless you have plans already. With Jason.”

Dani hums a little and pulls her cell phone out of her pocket, setting it on her desk as if she wants him to see she has a message waiting for her. She nods and lets their hands drift apart until only their fingertips are brushing.

“He sent me a message; wants to get that coffee he promised. Maybe dinner.”

Malcolm’s shoulders draw together a little, as if this is her answer. He doesn’t realize she’s asking a question. His other hand that’s not touching hers runs through his hair and his mouth opens like he’s ready to tell her it’s okay, that they’ll go another time; she distantly wonders how familiar he is to rejection.

She taps her fingers against the screen before she waits for his blue gaze to meet hers.

“Tell me that you don’t want me to go out with him and I won’t.”

Bright seems momentarily overwhelmed, like for once she’s thrown him off his game and he’s struggling to connect the dots and make ends meet. He lets out a slow breath out his nose before he reaches for her hand again, standing, the link between them unbroken.

“Come get what’s most likely really awful waffles with me.”

Dani smiles up at him before nodding, picking up her phone to put into her back pocket. A little later she’ll text Jason and apologize—because she’s not interested and didn’t mean to give him the wrong impression. She allows Bright to manipulate her body into his side as they walk towards the steps, their hands remaining intertwined,

“Not if you insult my diner like that, and also? Of course you’d be a waffle person. That’s part of your problem.”

He scoffs out a sound, looking down at her and leans in a little closer than necessary to say, “Waffles are literally made so that the butter can sit in-between the ridges. You’re not winning this argument.”

Dani hums and hopes that when she decides to kiss him later that he tastes like syrup, “We’ll see.”

\--

if you liked this fic, there is now a companion piece called '[routines](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23652052)'! feel free to give it a try :) 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! any kudos and comments are appreciated xoxo


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